


Santa Baby

by LikeMeReckless



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21605857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeMeReckless/pseuds/LikeMeReckless
Summary: When Betty and Jughead’s daughter starts questioning Santa’s existence, Jughead takes matters into his own hands to restore her Christmas spirit.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 25
Kudos: 112
Collections: 6th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, Home for the HoliDale





	Santa Baby

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little pile of fluff that was flipping around in my head and spilled out as I Christmas shopped for my daughter.
> 
> Thanks to @jandjsalmon for her wonderful edits!

**Tuesday, December 17th**

**12:00 PM**

“Ho, Ho, Ho! I’m ready to go!” Jughead bellowed as he walked through the front door of their home.

“Daddy!” a small, dark-haired blur screeched as she ran full speed and smacked into his stomach.

“Oomph!” As he was slammed back into the door, he couldn’t help but laugh at the ball of green velvet now hugging him tightly.

Grinning and carrying their two-year-old son, Tyler, Betty emerged in her holiday sweater, complete with flashing light bulbs that blinked on and off on the reindeer’s antlers.

Raising his eyebrows, a Jughead took in Betty’s look before pursing his lips and nodding.

“That’s- that’s a look right there, Betts.”

Plopping Tyler down by his puzzles she quirked a brow at him before tossing a similarly blinking sweater his way. 

“And here’s your look,” she teased, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jughead looked horrified, but she knew it was all a show. Each year for the holiday concert at J.P. Herman elementary, parents were encouraged to participate in the theme to enhance the holiday spirit and sense of community. The concert was held in the afternoons and students went home at lunch to change into concert attire. Betty had taken the day off to prepare and Jug had taken a half-day from work to attend the show. Now, holding the thick, scratchy sweater, he was second-guessing his life choices.

“You can’t be serious, Betts,” he said as he stared at the material in his hand.

“You have to, Daddy!” Janie yelled from where she was still gripping his thigh. “You have to look festive!”

Betty hid a giggle behind her hand. Maybe she couldn’t get him in the sweater, but Janie could get him to do anything. Their six-year-old, who they nicknamed Jitterbug, only had to raise a pinky to get him to jump.

“Did you even look at it?” Betty asked, sitting down on the floor to help Tyler finish the alphabet puzzle.

“I don’t need to look at it to know that I already feel emasculated,” he replied blankly.

Despite his protests, he held up the sweater and a slow grin spread across his face. The black material was imprinted with an image of The Deathstar from Star Wars and it was decorated with Christmas Lights.

Glancing up at Betty, his eyes met her smiling ones.

“It’s still terrible,” he added for good measure while sliding the sweater over his head on top of the black button-down shirt he had been wearing.

“Okay,” he sighed. “How do I look, Jitterbug?”

Grinning her toothy little grin, Janie looked up at him with adoration in her eyes.

“You always look handsome, Daddy.”

“Oh, Janie, you are good for Daddy’s ego,” Betty laughed.

I’m a flash, the mirth from Janie’s face washed away and she snunk back from her father and plopped on the floor next to Tyler.

“You know, I think we all look too good for this concert. Maybe we can stay home?” she asked hesitantly.

Concern flashed over Betty’s face and she crouched down beside her.

“Janie, you’ve been so excited for this concert all month,” Betty said gently, twirling a dark curl around her finger. “You’ve been practicing every night. Are you nervous sweetheart?”

“No,” Janie said defensively as if she would ever be nervous to perform. “I’m just not feeling very… Christmassy.”

“Wait a minute,” Jughead exclaimed, sliding onto the floor with his family. “You are practically an elf you ooze so much holiday spirit. What’s going on?”

Janie looked down and played with the lace on the hem of her green velvet dress. Her lips poured and she refused to meet their eyes.

“Timmy Weller,” she finally whispered.

“Timmy Weller?” Jughead repeated, thinking about how she was way too young to have boy drama already.

Janie nodded before further explaining.

“Timmy told me I was a baby this morning for believing in Santa and that Santa wasn’t real,” she lamented.

Betty pulled her daughter closer into her side as Jughead clenched his fists and jaw in anger.

“Baby,” Betty cooed softly. “Timmy Weller doesn’t know everything. In your heart, you know Santa and the spirit of Christmas is real.”

“Yeah,” Jughead agreed. “I bet this Timmy Weller has the IQ of a potato and has just been on the naughty list a lot and that’s why he’s angry.”

“Timmy gets all stars on his tests, Daddy,” Janie explained matter-of-factly. “He knows things.”

“Well,” Jughead informed her seriously, “I know things and I happen to know that Santa is real and would love nothing more than to hear your angelic little voice belting out that Chanukah song and Mele Kalikimaka.”

Janie perked up a little bit at that and pounced on her father in a quick hug again.

“Cmon!” she yelled, springing up from the floor. “We can’t be late!”

Scooping up Tyler, both parents rose from the hardwood and suited up the kids with winter gear. Before leaving, Jughead opened the entryway closet and dug through all of the hangers there.

Pulling out his old, worn, leather Serpents jacket, he slipped it on over his twinkling holiday sweater.

“Jug,” Betty said flatly. “Are you wearing a gang jacket to a first-grade musical just to intimidate a six-year-old boy?”

Popping up the collar a bit and putting on his best tough-guy look, he closed the closet and stared her down.

“Nobody makes my Jitterbug sad,” he replied. “I have to show those Weller’s who they are messing with.”

Betty stifled a grin and looked him up and down. She loved what a wonderful protective father he was to their children.

“Oh, babe,” she sighed. “They are definitely going to think you’re tough in your blinky nerd sweater.”

At the concert, Betty and Jughead found seats closer to Janie’s side of the stageand Tyler fell fast asleep on Betty’s lap. Though Jughead was sweating in the crowded auditorium, he refused to take his jacket off.

“Point him out when they get on stage,” he whispered to Betty.

“Jug,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes. “You aren’t seriously going to stare down a six-year-old during his holiday concert, are you?”

‘‘Tis the season,” he replied sarcastically.

Piano music began to play and the first graders walked onto the stage. They wore fancy dresses and shirts and ties and had handmade snowflake headbands on their heads. 

Tiny calls of, “Mommy! And Hi Grandpa!” squeaked out of their little mouths as they smiled, waved, and paraded onto the stage.

Janie spotter her parents front and center and offered them a thousand-watt smile and wave. They blew kisses back and offered her thumbs up of encouragement. 

The piano paused momentarily, only to start back up in the tune of a different song along with the slightly off-key voices of fifty shouting six-year-olds.

_“Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas Day. That's the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway.”_

Watching Janie smile and sing brought a tightness to Jughead’s chest. She was only six, still a baby in some ways, and still very into magic and wonder. His eyes scanned the stage trying to pinpoint Timmy Weller, still furious he would dare try to dim his Jitterbug’s Christmas spirit.

_“Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright._

_The sun will shine by day and all the stars at night._

_Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you.”_

Spotting a very stern looking boy at the corner of the stage whose shirt was buttoned up to the collar and whose tie was fastened very tight, he decided this must be Timmy. He bore no smile and sang as if he were robotically programmed.

“Figures,” he mumbled to himself before recoiling from an elbow from Betty.

Dragging his eyes back over to Janie, he set a smile upon his face for her benefit and waved up at while she sang.

_“Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas, a very Merry Christmas, a very, very, very Merry Merry Christmas to you.”_

As the first graders took a bow amidst thunderous applause and whistles from parents and the piano prepared for their next selection, Jughead eyed up Timmy Weller once more. He had devised a plan while sitting there and he wouldn’t let this little runt ruin Christmas for Janie.

That night, decked out in Christmas Jammies, they watched The Grinch while they ate Chinese food. Janie had been allowed to pick dinner to celebrate her most fabulous performance at the concert. After dinner, Betty had taken the kids up to bed and read them a story.

As she came back down hoping to snuggle up with a glass of wine and watch Christmas Vacation for the sixth time since Thanksgiving, she was surprised to find Jughead’s spot vacant and his coat missing from the coat rack.

Grabbing her sweater off the rack, she wrapped it around herself and stepped outside to look for him.

“Jug?” she called the cold December wind wrapped around her. 

“Over here!” he yelled back from the other side of the yard.

Groaning at the cold, she tightened the fabric around herself and stomped over to where he stood, curiously holding the entire bag of carrots she had purchased at the grocery store just yesterday.

Betty cocked her head to the side in confusion and scrunched up her face.

“Jughead?” she questioned curiously. “Why are you on the lawn, in the freezing cold, gnawing on a bag of carrots? You don’t even eat vegetables.”

“It’s for Jitterbug,” he explained, biting tiny nibbles into a carrot before tossing it, and the pieces in the grass.

“Jug?” she prompted him. “Are you feeling okay because Janie is in bed and you are spitting veggies into my Christmas lights.”

Taking another hunk out of a carrot, he spoke through the offending orange vegetables.

“It’s reindeer food,” he explained. “When she wakes up for school tomorrow we can show her how Santa paid a visit to help show her that Timmy is a moron.”

A warm smile spread across Betty’s face and she gave his forearm a squeeze.

“Don’t stay out here too long,” she chattered, freezing without a heavy coat. “It’s cold and I want to cuddle.”

“Five more minutes,” he assured her, before getting back to work.

Betty trudged her way back up to the house, still smiling at her husband’s adorable antics. If anyone had told sixteen-year-old Betty that her Serpent King boyfriend would be standing in the cold in Christmas jammies making reindeer food, she would have laughed them to death. But, she had to admit, she loved him more for it.

**Wednesday, December 18th**

**6:30 AM**

  
  


The next morning began as usual. The Jones clan was out of bed by six-thirty and eating breakfast in the kitchen. Pancakes and orange juice were the meal of the day and Betty made smiley faces in syrup for Janie and Tyler. While Janie devoured hers, she had her father's appetite and metabolism, Tyler mostly licked the sugary syrup off.

“I told you that kid’s an elf,” Jughead teased. “He’s short and smiley and eats all things sugar.”

“Well then maybe we can get him to tinker around and fix the garage door,” Betty said casually.

“I’m on it right after Christmas,” Jughead promised.

“Hmmm,” she drowned out in a disbelieving tone. “That’s what I heard at Halloween.”

Finishing breakfast, Jughead dressed Tyler and Betty had helped Janie pick out an outfit for school. There was a mad dash afterward of grabbing lunches and homework folders, briefcases and daycare snacks before they all had their coats on and were heading out front.

“Janie!” Jughead yelled excitedly! “What is that over there?”

Jogging across the lawn, Jughead has Janie right on his heels.

“Look at the hoof prints in the dirt and the half-eaten carrots! Santa must have stopped by on his scouting route where he maps out and marks all the good boys and girls’ houses!” Jughead explained excitedly.

Janie wrinkled her nose up and shook her head at her father.

“Nah,” she demurred, dragging a toe through a hoof print. “That’s probably just a regular deer who got a hold of some food.”

Jughead’s shoulders seemed to deflate and his lips turned downward in a serious frown.

“What makes you say that?” he asked he pressed.

“Well these are just regular carrots,” Janie explained.

“And?” Jughead asked, waiting for further explanation.

“And everyone knows that Santa’s reindeer eat magical purple carrots, not the plain regular kind,” she put in, rolling her eyes at his daft incompetence in regards to magical foods.

“Oh, of course,” he nodded. “Obviously.”

Betty had heard the exchange as she had secured Tyler in the car seat and couldn’t help but bite her lip and chuckle at him as he headed to his car with Janie. 

“Magical purple carrots…” he mumbled to himself as he passed her and offered her a quick peck on the lips as he passed by.

“Have a good day, Santa,” she called.

“You too, Mrs. Claus.”

Jughead could barely focus on his writing all day at work. While his main source of income was his novels, he often agreed to work for a friend from college’s magazine during busy times to help him out and draw in some extra cash. It wasn’t his favorite gig- he had to wear a shirt and dress pants in the office. But it helped with all of the extra Christmas spending they did with the kids and friends and family.

“Knock, Knock,” a voice said from his doorway, drawing him from his vegetative blank state.

“Hey, Max,” he sighed removing the pen he had been chewing on from his lips. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I’ve been staring at you for an hour from my office and you haven’t blinked,” his friend laughed. “That’s so unlike you Jones- your fingers not typing a mile a minute.”

Jughead flopped back in the chair and rubbed his face. Max had three kids already and he figured he’d understand his woes.

“It’s Janie,” Jug explained. “This three foot jester with a permanent scowl told her there’s no Santa and I’m trying to prove him wrong.”

Max nodded and perched on the edge of the desk for a moment. 

“Did you try glitter on your roof and lawn?” he asked him seriously. “In all the kids’ books Santa’s sleigh leaves a magical trail of glitter in his wake.”

Jughead’s face lit up and he slapped the desk in excitement.

“Hey! That’s not a bad idea,” he sang. “I can read one of those books tonight and have the glitter out there tomorrow!”

Max laughed and hopped back off the desk. 

“Want to grab lunch?” he asked his old buddy.

“Do you even have to ask me that?” he replied, grabbing his coat, mood greatly improved with his new Plan B.

After lunch, he called Betty and insisted she remember which of their holiday books contained Santa’s magical sparkles in it and have it ready for bed that night. She had teased him for being insane for a while but secretly found the entire scenario endearing.

Later that night, after dinner, homework, and bath time, Betty and Jughead read the story to Janie and Tyler before it was time for bed.

“And so Christmas had been saved,” Betty sang cheerfully as she finished the story. “All that was left as a sign of Santa’s sleigh was a glittering and glowing upon all the rooftops and a slight echo of, ‘Ho, Ho, Ho’. The end.”

“Alright you two,” Betty said sleepily. “Time for bed. And maybe if you think extra hard, Santa’s magical sleigh will pass by us tonight on one of his sweeps.”

“Santa!” Tyler yelled, not entirely understanding Christmas but enjoying the hype nonetheless.

Janie didn’t look as exuberant, but humored her parents and said goodnight.

As soon as he was sure the kids were asleep, Jughead dug into Betty’s craft stash in the spare room and seized jars of golden glitter.

Betty had offered to help him this time and held the ladder as he sprinkled the glitter on the rooftop and all across the lawn.

“You owe me new glitter, Jones,” Betty teased as he finished up.

“I’ll stuff it in your stocking, Cooper,” came his reply in the form of her maiden name and old nickname.

“Cooper,” she grinned as he climbed down the ladder. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“Well,” he teased, looping his arms around her neck. “I know what it does to you and we’ve just been so effing tired lately.”

Betty popped up an eyebrow and bit her lip, mischievousness twinkling in her eyes.

“Are you tired now?” she whispered softly, placing a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Not in the least,” he mumbled as his lips covered hers, his arms lifting her up with her legs around his waist as he carried her back into the house.

  
  


**Thursday, December 19th**

**8:00 AM**

  
  


Jughead had barely eaten his eggs and toast that morning, which was unprecedented, at least since he and Betty had been living together. His leg had been bobbing up and down under the table in anticipation of his sparkly surprise.

With the table cleared and two kids wrangled into their clothes, they suited up to head to work and school. Out front, Betty decided to help her husband’s plan along.

Letting out a large gasp and enlarging her eyes like saucers, Betty covered her mouth in shock and pointed up the lower portion of the roof’s overhang.

“Jitterbug,” she breathed out. “Look at the roof and the sidewalk below!”

Dropping her backpack, Janie ran over to examine the glittery sparkles and Tyler toddled along behind her.

“Spahkles!” he yelled in pure delight, bending down to play with some.

As their daughter inspected the ground, Jughead smiled widely over at Betty and she offered him a silent high five as to not draw attention to their scheming.

With her lips pillowed out into a duck-like expression, Janie turned to them and shrugged.

“It’s definitely not Santa’s sleigh glitter,” she reasoned.

“It isn’t?” Jughead asked incredulously? “How can you tell?”

“Well, Santa’s sleigh glitter is always shown with little snowflake shaped ones in books and is definitely WAY more sparkly than this.”

Betty and Jughead looked at each other. In all their years of sleuthing, they never expected it to be a genetic trait that would come back to bite them in the ass in the form of their observant tiny human.

“But where did it all come from then, Janie?”

Placing her hands on her hips, she wrinkled her nose in thought before speaking with a confident nod.

“Garden gnomes,” she explained.

“Garden gnomes?” Jughead repeated, baffled.

“Yes, they are tricky little things and do NOT like getting put away during holiday decorating times,” Janie explained very soundly. “I suspect they stole Mom’s glitter and tried to trick us.”

With one last look at the sparkly lawn, Janie paraded to the car, Tyler still sitting on the ground playing with his pile of treasure.

“Garden gnomes,” Jughead muttered to himself, once again dragging a palm down his face.

“Elementary, my dear,” Betty giggles as she moved to grab their son and wrestle him into his car seat. “Our daughter is Sherlock Gnomes.”

Jughead looked at Betty with a blank stare as she climbed into her car, biting her lower lip to suppress another giggle.

“This isn’t over,” he said as she started up the car. “Just wait until tonight!”

With a roll of her eyes, she headed down the driveway and off to work.

That afternoon, Max popped into Jughead’s temporary office space to check on Janie.

“Hey, how did it go with the glitter, man?” Max asked from the doorway.

Jughead’s eyes scanned the computer screen on his desk, his brain not even registering the voice coming from his doorway.

“Jughead!” Max yelled a bit louder. “Helllllloooo?” Earth to Jones?”

Startled, he finally glanced up from his computer screen to see his friend and current boss standing there, an amused look on his face.

“Our magazine is not that interesting so it can’t be an article that had your rapt attention.”

Jughead shook his head a bit and smiled grimly.

“I’m sorry Max. It’s Janie. The sparkles didn’t fool her either. She told us that pissed off gnomes we’re punking us.”

At his raised brow Jughead shrugged and added, “She didn’t say it as colorfully as that.”

“So what are you going to do?” he asked. “Maybe it’s best to just explain the truth to her and let it be,” Max suggested.

Closing his laptop he groaned and perched his elbows on the wooden desk.

“If she had come to this conclusion on her own I probably would have done that,” he acquiesced. “But this was taken from her and a part of her, the little girl part that thinks garden gnomes pranked us, still wants to believe.”

Max smiled slightly at his old friend. “So what’s the next plan of attack then, Jones?”

A sly, Jones grin spread across his face as he reopened his computer to show his friend the screen. Max laughed at shook his head.

“If you had told me ten years ago that instead of debating the validity of Hemingway novels in regards to teaching modern-day boys about being men we’d be planting Santa evidence I would have called you crazy,” Max teased.

“Yeah, well, a lot has changed in ten years. We both got wifed and now we wear family pajamas,” Jughead sighed.

“It’s the best, right?” Max added, before turning to head back to his office.

“Don’t you know it,” Jughead yelled at his back before looking back at his screen. “That it is.”

After their usual dinner and homework routine that night, Jughead asked Betty if she would mind reading the bedtime story on her own that night and asked her to tell the kids that Santa may do an early stop in to check on if they’ve still been nice and not naughty.

“What are you up to, Juggie?” she asked quizzically. 

Pressing a quick kiss on her forehead he just smirked and winked, not revealing his grand plans.

When the kids headed up to bed, Jughead got to work. Grabbing the bags of flour Betty had in the pantry, he began to sprinkle it around the living room floor. He worked until he had covered most of the surface, ending over by the front door.

Lacing up his boots he had left in the entryway, he carefully stomped his way around the floor, leaving clean boot prints in a trail towards the stairs. When he reached the foot of the stairs, he took off his boots carefully and stood back to look at his handy work.

Perfectly clean imprints littered the living room floor, stopping by the Christmas tree before heading towards the steps.

“Jughead Jones,” he heard in an angry whisper from behind him. “I cannot yell and wake up the children, but what the hell did you do to my floors!?”

“Betts,” he hissed, grabbing her arm and dragging her down to their bedroom.

“Jughead, was that all my flour for the Christmas cookies I need to bake on Saturday?”

“I’ll buy you new flour tomorrow,” he groaned. “It’s just tomorrow morning imagine her face when she sees Santa’s footprints in our living room! Her eyes are going to light up, Betts!”

Betty sighed and her shoulders slumped.

“You know you’re cleaning this all up yourself, right?” she added, sinking back against him where he sat on the bed.

His hands unconsciously moved to her shoulders where they began to knead the tight muscles there.

“Juggie,” she groaned, leaning back into his touch. “Why is this making you so crazy. I mean, this whole thing would have blown over eventually.”

Digging his thumbs between her shoulder blades, he placed a soft kiss against the side of her neck before running his nose along its length.

“Betty, you remember Christmas as magic and warmth from when you were a kid up until things got… complicated when we were older,” he began. “Me? Somewhere around Janie’s age, maybe a little older, I remember a cold trailer, the sound of empty bottles, and a growling stomach.”

“Jug,” Betty sighed turning her body around to face him and reaching a palm up to cup his jawline.

“No,” he sighed, leaning into her touch. “You don’t need to feel bad for me. I just need you to understand where I’m coming from.”

He caught Betty’s eyes and held her gaze. Hesitantly, she nodded for him to continue.

“I remember other Serpents dropping off some used toys so I’d have something to wrap for JB when she was little. She was so happy with anything and truly believed that Santa brought her those ratty teddy bears and spotty tea sets,” he shared, grinning at the memory.

“And then she was gone with my Mom and things got even colder, even less magical.”

Betty’s eyes were wet, but no tears fell. He had once told her she shed enough tears over his past for a lifetime and shouldn’t shed anymore. She tried to honor that. She did, however, scoot herself into his lap and wrap her legs around his waist to embrace him.

“I guess this is so important to me because I want Janie to have the magic for as long as she can, you know?” he questioned into her neck where he had buried his face.“She’ll find out soon enough the world is harsh, but for now, her imagination and innocence are so pure and I’m not going to let someone else snuff that out. Not like they did to me.”

“Juggie,” Betty said softly, pulling back to look at him and run her fingers through his hair. “I love you. So, so, much. And not just because your the best Dad ever, but that does help.”

He chortled a bit at that and hugged her back tightly before pulling her squealing form back on the mattress with him. 

“Care to show me how much you love me, Mrs. Jones?” he asked goofily, pecking kisses all over her face.

“Don’t think you’ll get me to forget that you’re cleaning up that flour, Jug,” she accused him before leaning back into his touch.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Betts.”

**Friday, December 20th**

**6:00 AM**

They had barely fallen into a deep sleep the previous night, waiting in anticipation to see Janie’s face when she found the footprints downstairs in the morning. Tyler knew the name Santa but didn’t quite understand what Christmas was just yet. He’d be two and a half in January and was just enjoying the lights and colorful decorations around the house.

At 6:30 they could hear the sound of chatter and play down the hall. Most mornings Tyler would be up first. Since they converted him to a toddler bed, he no longer cried for them to come get him. Instead, he would climb into Janie’s bed and they’d play and look through books until Betty or Jughead came to get them. 

It was kind of nice actually and gave them an extra half an hour to lounge in bed most days. Today was not a lounge in bed kind of day, though.

“Hey, guys!” Betty beamed as she scooped Tyler up from Janie’s bed. “You ready to go have breakfast?”

Before either could reply or bark out their breakfast order, Jughead’s voice came booming up through the hallway.

“Jitterbug! Tiger! Come see what’s in the living room!”

Betty shrugged at the kids and smiled widely with excitement, running out of the room with Janie close on her heels.

“Oh my goodness!” Betty gasped. “Look at what’s on the floor Jitterbug!”

Janie stepped in front of her mother and carefully trotted down to the edge of the step where her father stood, excitedly pointing at the footprints.

“I told you Santa might be doing naughty nice checks last night! Luckily you have been nice!” Jug remarked.

Janie looked up at him with an arch to her left eyebrow; a trait she no doubt inherited from her mother who often gave him that same look.

“Daddy, that is definitely not Santa’s footprints,” Janie reasoned with him. “Yes, definitely not.”

Betty watched as Jughead deflated like a Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon, drawn-out and dramatic.

“What makes you think that, Jitterbug?” Betty asked, trying to corral Tyler who was trying to jump into the flour below.

“Well, these footprints are more narrow and Santa’s feet are really wide and fat. So these just can’t be his footprints,” Janie explained.

“Well then who else could they belong to?” Jughead asked her.

Janie thought for a moment, tapping her chin with her pointer finger before her eyes lit up.

“It was the tooth fairy!” she yelled.

“In combat boots?” Jughead responded weakly.

“My tooth has been loose and she was probably checking on it. And, of course, she wears boots!” Janie said to him as if he were insane. “She has to fight off dogs and the boogeyman so she can’t wear high heels, Dad. Duh!”

“Duh,” Betty repeated before heading back down towards the kids' rooms.

“Okay, guys,” she called out. “Today we get dressed before breakfast so Daddy can vacuum.”

As they left for work that morning, Betty made Jughead promise he was done with holiday schemes. She wanted a nice, quiet family movie night and didn’t want anymore glitter or flour all over her hardwoods. Reluctantly, he had given in.

Later, after work and school, dance class and dinner, they all sat curled up on the sofa with mugs of hot chocolate and mini marshmallows watching The Polar Express for the thousandth time.

As the last scene faded and the credits rolled, Betty took one last sip from her mud and sighed over the sleeping toddler across her lap.

“That movie really gets me in the Christmas spirit,” Betty said, smiling over at Janie.

“Do you remember when we went on the Polar Express train, Jitterbug, and Santa gave you a bell?” she asked.

Janie smiled widely, her teeth a bit browned and coated with the thick homemade chocolate drink.

“That was so so so much fun!” she squealed, causing Tyler to shift on the couch.

“Hey, why don’t you go find the bell. It’s over on the bottom of the tree where you hung it,” Betty suggested.

Excitedly, Janie hopped down and ran over to their tree, crouching down she picked up the bell from a lower branch and gave it a good shake. No jingle came.

Pausing in confusion, she held the bell up again and have it another more sturdy shake, but the bell was still silent.

“Oh, I just love that jingle jingle sound! Don’t you, Juggie?”

Jughead looked over at her quizzically, a slight grin across his lips.

“It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard, Betts,” he agreed, catching on. “Give it another jingle, Janie.”

Janie shook the bell again and a look of utter shock crossed over her features.

“What is it, Janie?” Jughead asked her.

“I think- I mean- I said I thought Santa wasn’t real because Timmy said so and Timmy gets all stars and now I can’t hear my bell and I’m going on the naughty list!” she lamented all in one breath.

Holding out his arms, Jughead opened them wide for her to climb in. She ran over and embraced him hard, squeezing his neck.

“Janie, you are definitely on the good list kiddo. Santa knows what’s in your heart,” he explained.

She sprang up suddenly before running over to their magazine rack.

“There’s so much to do! I need to finalize my list!” she yelled, grabbing the Amazon toy catalogue from the rack.

“Uh, it’s bedtime, kiddo,” Betty called as she stood up with Tyler, still asleep in her arms.

“Please, please, please can I take the book to bed? PLEASE?” she begged her parents who laughed at her exuberance.

“Sure, just for tonight,” Jughead caved. “But no sneaking peeks under your covers with a flashlight.”

“Deal,” she agreed, crossing her fingers behind her back.

Betty headed up with the kids while Jughead cleaned up and washed out their hot chocolate mugs. Just as he finished and plopped on the couch, Betty came back downstairs with a smug grin on her face.

“So, you devious little elf,” he smiled crookedly. “Care to tell me how long you were stashing that little trick up your sleeve?”

Walking over to their TV stand, Betty opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of pliers and the missing jingler from Janie’s bell. Pulling back the metal, she replaced the inside and hung it back on the tree so Janie could hear it ring in the morning.

“Honestly?” she said sitting down next to him. “I thought of it on Tuesday when she came home but it was kind of a turn on watching you play Santa all week.” 

“Oh really?” he grinned mischievously. “Well then, Santa is curious if you’ve been naughty or nice this year, Mrs. Jones.”

Betty smiled back at him demurely and innocently before climbing her way onto his lap.

“Well, sadly I’d have to say nice, Santa,” she answered, locking her legs on either side of his hips. “But for what I want for Christmas I think I have to be naughty.”

His pupils dilated and his voice became deep and breathy.

“And what do you want for Christmas, Mrs. Jones?” he asked her, his hands now gripping her hips quite tightly.

Betty leaned forward and placed her lips against his ear to whisper.

“I was hoping for a Christmas miracle,” she confessed, taking his hand from her hip and placing it on her belly. “Maybe miracle number three?”

“Well,” Jughead said, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. “I think that is on your husband’s list as well. But it will definitely require you being on the naughty list.”

In an instant, Betty had scooted off his lap and stood, backing her way towards the steps, a dazzling smile on her face.

“Where are you going?” he asked her, rising from the couch as well.

“Upstairs,” she whispered huskily. “You coming up to unwrap your gift, Juggie?” she asked playfully, backing further away.

In an instant he was on her, his lips plastered to hers and his fingers gripping at the back of her head, her hair tousled around his fingers. As suddenly as the kiss had begun, he abruptly stopped it, pausing only to once again lift her up in his arms to begin carrying her to their bedroom, his lips still periodically pecking hers.

“Ho, Ho, Ho, Mrs. Jones,” he mumbled into her lips. “Merry Christmas to me.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
